


Ficlets

by digimaniac33



Category: Homestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digimaniac33/pseuds/digimaniac33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets I've done for Homestuck, mostly for Promptbound</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. its halloween karkat!!! :D

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS DOUCHEBAGGERY?  
JOHN: it's halloween, karkat!

Orange and black streamers are strewn between computers, and pumpkins sit on every flat surface. A table is set up with bowls of candy and plates of cookies. Bats, spiders, and skulls seem to have been thrown randomly around, some hanging from the ceiling. Tavros prods a spider nervously while an excited Aradia talks with a masked Rose by one of the skulls. A few other trolls are milling about, largely ignoring the decorations, although Nepeta's close to entangling herself in a mass of streamers.

KARKAT: I SEE.  
KARKAT: HALLOWEEN IS THE HUMAN WORD FOR "GRUB-FUCKING STUPID EXCUSE TO FUCK AROUND AND IGNORE THE UNIVERSE-DESTROYING DEMON RIGHT ON OUR FUCKING TAILS".  
KARKAT: GREAT FUCKING IDEA.  
JOHN: i don't think we have a word like that, actually.  
JOHN: halloween is a holiday where we dress up in costumes and give each other candy and tell spooky stories.  
JOHN: it's a lot of fun!  
KARKAT: FUN.  
JOHN: yes, karkat, fun!  
JOHN: wait, is fun a disease for you guys, like friendship?  
JOHN: wouldn't want you to get sick, after all!

He's wearing some fake nose-mustache thing, but you can tell he's smiling like he's set up some gog-awful prank. You still can't believe you don't hate this guy.

KARKAT: WHATEVER.

It's not even worth fighting over. He pouts, but you dodge his pitiful expression and head straight for the food table. Living with the humans for months has taught you that while their food is often strangely colored and lacking in the oozing fluid department, you can usually eat it without puking up half your digestive system. Today's delicacies include lots of brightly wrapped pieces of things which you can't fucking identify without unwrapping them (humans have the stupidest customs). Luckily, Terezi's trying out every single kind there is. Of course, she's trying them by popping each piece fully wrapped into her mouth and pulling out wrapper bits little by little, but at least you don't have to jump in blind.

(Fuck, you're glad you didn't say that out loud. The only thing that could make the sight of a gleefully slobbering Terezi more terrifying is a gleefully slobbering Terezi berating you for insensitivity about three inches from your face.)

Some bowls contain unwrapped candy... things.

... They look like troll horns. Same exact coloring. How the fuck did they do that? No, more importantly, why? They're even shaped a little like yours. What the fuck.

JADE: karkat!!!   
JADE: i mean uh   
JADE: yo wassup k dizzle dog   
JADE: i mean dawg   
DAVE: wow jade that sounds nothing like me   
DAVE: put in a little fucking effort

Against all your screaming instincts, you turn.

The last two humans have arrived, and one looks exactly the same as always, down to the smug grin and sunglasses. The other one also looks exactly the same. As in she looks exactly like Dave. The record shirt, the sunglasses, she's even borrowed one of his shitty swords for the evening. Her hair is still black, but it's tied back and gelled down and it really doesn't matter because she's dressed _exactly like him._

JADE: geez, dave, i'm doing my best!   
JADE: so, uh, lay off me, home-skillet, before i hafta school you   
DAVE: oh my god   
JADE: let's kick this! :D   
JADE: my rapping is bad, and your rapping is sad,   
JADE: but my kind of bad is the good kind of bad,   
JADE: i'm a better dave than the real deal,   
JADE: um, i've got a bunch of squiddles that squeal!   
JADE: so you watch out or they'll come after you   
JADE: because those squiddles are a part of my crew!   
JADE: and my crew's real tough, it'll mess you up bad!   
JADE: uh, the bad kind of bad, not the one that's, um, rad   
JADE: wow, this is really hard!   
JADE: but basically i'm the best and i can't be beat,   
JADE: so all you other rappers can kiss my feet!   
KARKAT: OH GOG PLEASE STOP.   
DAVE: nah, that was pretty cool actually   
DAVE: i oughta be teaching you instead of tavros, but you did get a few sweet rhymes in there   
JADE: thanks, dave!

She kisses him on the cheek, which he bears stoically. She giggles and pecks his nose, which doesn't get a reaction either. This devolves into rounds of smooches and giggles until he finally grabs her cheeks and kisses her properly.

You are going to puke.


	2. The Asparagus War

_The passive-aggressive campaign between you and your mother takes most of your free time, in both contemplating your next move and reminiscing upon former clashes. In your more whimsical moments, you cast a narrative pall over events, giving longer sessions bombastic names complete with capital letters, such as the Vacuum Incident or the Mausoleum Mishap (alliteration is always worth more points)._

_None were so terrifying, though, as the Asparagus War._

_This war began, as many of your bouts do, at the dinner table. Your mother's cooking skills are (infuratingly) nearly perfect. She is flawed, however, though of course you would never point it out so directly. No, your jibes must be subtle, well-placed._

"Mother, this is by far the most delicious supper you've placed before me yet. Why, the pork is simply falling apart! It's quite astounding, really." Starting the round with overly lavish praise nearly always gives you the advantage, a tactic you have learned through many meal-based strifes.

"Thank you, Rose. I know you appreciate a good meal, and so I try my very best for you. Did the potatoes turn out well?" she asked, taking a sip of her very expensive wine, carefully chosen to match the evening's riposte - you mean, repast. Slip of the tongue.

"Smooth and creamy, Mother. Like eating clouds in tangible form."

"Mmm."

She takes another sip of her wine as you drink delicately from your own glass - the same style as your mother's, only yours is filled with grape juice, which, wonder of wonders, matches the exact shade of your mother's wine. Will these coincidental miracles never cease?

The stage is set for your climactic blow. You spear the evening's vegetable on your fork and prepare to ingest it. You slowly close your mouth over the asparagus tip and remove the fork, chewing methodically. Your efforts are rewarded with an odd combination of textures - at times stringy and slightly nauseating, at other times tough and undercooked. This is your mother's weakness, the one fault in her cooking which she cannot ever overcome - she lacks the ability to properly prepare asparagus. Every other vegetable she can cook with aplomb in ten different ways, but the asparagus eludes her every time. Where others would give up, though, she grits her teeth and refuses to throw in the towel.

You suppose it's admirable, in a way.

But, every time she tries again, she leaves herself open to another direct strike from yourself, and though you hate to admit it, you need the potshots badly. Without them, she would simply overpower you in your constant unspoken jockeying for position.

You chew through the aspargus tip as best you can, attempting to show an attempt at hiding your disgust. Your mother looks on in worry.

"Oh dear, Rose darling, is something wrong?"

You swallow dramatically and sip at your juice, ostensibly to help the asparagus down your throat and clear your mouth of its memory. It's not nearly so bad as all that, but this is war.

"Nothing wrong, Mother, though I do think your asparagus skills still need a small amount of fine-tuning."

She frowns. "Oh, drat. I thought I'd gotten it right this time. Undercooked or over?"

You smile wanly (an expression you've practiced in the mirror for more hours than you'd like to admit). "A little of both, I'm afraid."

She sighs and stands, reaching for the asparagus dish, obviously intending to return it to the kitchen and give the vegetables the burial they deserve. You stop her with an outstretched hand.

"No, wait, it's not nearly that bad. I was simply... surprised by the... unique, er, texture." You time your pauses carefully, watching her face to see the impact of your light jabs.

"But Rose," she disputes, "I couldn't possibly let you suffer through such a lackluster dish on my behalf."

"But to simply throw it out? I couldn't let you waste food like that. Honestly, I'm sure they'll grow on me if I eat enough. Please, sit down and finish supper with me."

Your mother struggles with your heavy barrage. You have left no opening, no way for her to smile coyly and continue with her actions without seeming to insult you. Game and set.

Or at least, you thought so until your vision was filled with your mother's hair. She's kneeling beside you, cradling you in a delicate but heartfelt hug.

"Oh Rose. How did I ever manage to get a wonderful daughter like you? I simply don't deserve you." She hugs you tighter. You're at a loss. Should you hug her back? Smooth the hair on her head, in a reversal of your roles when you're lying sick in bed? Or perhaps stroke her back and hum a soothing tune? You are entirely nonplussed.

 _Well played, Mother,_ you think to yourself. _Well played._


	3. John's Canary

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 11:36 --

GT: jade!  
GT: guess what i got today!  
GG: hmmmm  
GG: a new movie poster?  
GT: nope.  
GG: the new issue of game bro?  
GT: yuck, no.  
GG: decent programming skills?  
GT: oh haha.  
GG: well gosh, john, how am i supposed to guess without any hints???  
GG: :P  
GT: okay, okay.  
GT: i'll just tell you since you'd never guess in a million years.  
GT: i got...  
GT: (drumroll please)  
GT: ... (come on, jade, give me a drumroll)  
GG: oh!  
GG: brrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrrbrr  
GT: ... a canary!  
GG: like a pet canary?  
GT: yup!  
GG: cooooool!!!  
GG: have you named him yet?  
GG: wait, a boy canary or a girl canary?  
GT: oh, uh, i dunno. how do you check that, anyway?  
GG: >_> ummmmmm...  
GT: oh whatever!  
GT: i've decided she's a girl canary and her name is liv tyler.  
GG: like that movie girl?  
GT: yup!  
GT: it's either that or casey.  
GG: casey?  
GT: that's the daughter from con air.  
GT: wait, you've never seen con air, have you jade?  
GG: nope! :)  
GT: oh wow, you have GOT to see it! it's like the greatest movie in the history of ever!  
GG: okay i will definitely think about doing that!  
GG: but i wanna hear more about your canary!  
GT: oh right.  
GT: so dad decided i've been become really responsible, so he's letting me have a pet.  
GT: i kinda wanted a lizard or something, but the canary's nice.  
GG: oh wow, that is a huge responsibility! your dad must really trust you!  
GT: yeah i guess so.  
GT: ...  
GT: hey jade?  
GG: yeah?  
GT: can you... give me some advice on taking care of a pet?  
GG: oh!  
GG: uh i guess i could but bec mostly takes care of himself  
GG: so i don't know how much help i'd be  
GG: sorry :(  
GT: no it's okay! anything would help really.  
GT: i just  
GT: i don't want to let my dad down, you know?  
GT: giving me a pet is a lot of responsibility after all, and i want him to be proud of me.  
GG: oh i see!  
GG: then yes john i will help you take care of liv tyler!  
GT: thank you SO MUCH, jade!  
GT: i really appreciate it!  
GG: of course john!  
GG: what are friends for? :B  
GT: hehe :)

* * *

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 14:52

GT: um, jade?  
GT: it's about my canary.  
GT: we took him to the vet.  
GT: his name's cameron poe now, not liv tyler.  
GT: also i guess he thought his cage was prison  
GT: and he had a wife and daughter canary waiting for him somewhere  
GT: because he flew away.  
GG: oh noooooo :(


	4. Epic Banjo Duel

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 15:27 --

GG: dave!  
GG: that music you gave me was sooo cool!  
TG: no shit  
TG: would i give you anything less than the freshest beats  
TG: the sickest jams  
TG: the illest grooves  
TG: no  
TG: no i would not  
TG: because that would be a fucking douchy thing to do  
GG: :D  
GG: i really liked the bassline on this one.  
TG: thought you would  
GG: would you mind if i played with it a bit?  
TG: course not  
TG: you gotta let mdklfsajfkl;ak  
GG: dave?  
GG: dave???  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! --  
GG: oh no :(  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] is now an idle chum! --  
TG: jade  
TG: you still there  
GG: dave!  
GG: are you okay??? what happened?  
TG: nothin much  
TG: bro just wanted to strife a bit  
TG: he surprised me a bit thats all  
GG: oh noooo  
TG: nah its cool  
TG: i almost got him this time  
TG: gotta say though itd be nice to not be on guard every second of my life  
TG: youve got it pretty good with your grandpa huh  
TG: i mean aside from all the deathmurder island stuff  
GG: ummm  
GG: its true we don't strife very much  
GG: but its not all fun and games!  
GG: did i tell you about the first time i got my bass?  
TG: no  
TG: what did he make you wrestle a crocodile for it or something  
GG: not exactly...

One last turn of the wrench and... there! _Jade thought happily to herself. Finally, her home-made bass was complete, and she could start sending her own music pieces to TG._ This is gonna be so much fun!

_She tested the strings, tuning the bass carefully and practicing a few chords she'd seen on the internet. She'd copied them to the best of her ability, but it was hard to get them right without a real bass. At last, satisfied with her work, she slowly picked through the bassline from one of TG's recent samples._

_Jade practiced for a long time, working her way through more and more complicated pieces, and getting faster and faster along the way. She started riffing, melding one rhythm into another, slowing one down and speeding another up._

_Suddenly, Bec appeared next to her, and just as suddenly Grandpa's study appeared around her. The bass and portable amp had come along for the ride. Confused, Jade looked around._

_The fireplace lit with fire and her grandpa was there, holding a banjo._

_"Hello, Jade."_

_"Hi, Grandpa! Did you want me for something?"_

_He chuckled. "Well, I heard your practicing, and golly if it didn't give me a hankering for an old-fashioned banjo duel! So prepare yourself for one humdinger of a scrum, my girl!"_

_"Um, grandpa... I don't have a banjo. This is a bass."_

_"That doesn't matter one tiddly-bit! The instruments are the least important part of a banjo duel. What truly matters is the soul!"_

_"Oh! Well, okay. Get ready to rock, Grandpa!"_

GG: and then we had one of the most epic banjo duels in the history of paradox space!  
GG: :D  
TG: wait  
TG: youre telling me you made your own bass  
TG: learned how to play it  
TG: and had a musical battle of epic proportions with your grandpa  
TG: all in the same day  
GG: yup!  
TG: yeah no im calling bullshit  
GG: awwww...  
GG: i was hoping youd believe me at least a little bit...  
TG: has gt been giving you prank tips or something  
GG: yeah, he has!  
TG: that explains it  
TG: dont listen to him  
TG: hes really fucking bad at pranks  
GG: :o  
GG: but i think hes funny!  
TG: yeah well youve got a really bad sense of humor  
GG: but i think youre funny, too!  
TG: like i said  
GG: huh?  
GG: oh! i get it!  
GG: heehee! <3


	5. Straight Up Man Off

"This is absolutely ridiculous."

"Noted."

"This won't prove anything."

"Also noted."

"You have nothing to prove, anyway."

"Your concerns will be taken into consideration. Thank you, have a nice day."

Dirk's eyes stayed hidden behind his shades, but the long acquaintance she'd had with him helped Jane to know that he was fixedly staring across the room at Dave, who was surrounded by his own set of friends. None of them seemed to be trying to talk Dave out of it, not even Rose, who Jane had hoped would help. On Dirk's side, Roxy and Jake were taking turns giving him a massage and ramping up the pep talk.

"For goodness's sake, he's not having a boxing match, it's just an immature challenge."

"A challenge that he is totes gonna win, Janey!" Roxy didn't stop her ministrations as she tried to convince the skeptical girl. "This is a very important competition, Jane, one that Di-Stri here is gonna win easy."

Beside her, Jake nodded sagely. "Indeed! While I'm sure Dave is an outstanding lad, he simply cannot beat Dirk. Why, this is exactly what Dirk does best!"

"You heard 'em, Crocker. This is just something we gotta do."

Jane threw her arms up in frustration. "Fine, go ahead with this silly game, I won't stop you." With that, she turned and stomped over to a set of chairs that had been set up for the audience. Most of the trolls were already there, their expressions ranging from boredom to anticipatory glee. She carefully chose a chair far from that last one - she didn't know them each individually very well yet, but she did know that troll had a tendency to slobber and very little understanding of personal space.

Eventually, humans from both sides backed away from their Strider of choice and entered the "stands". The combatants themselves took another moment to themselves before rising and meeting in the center of the arena. A small table was set up there, with a tablespoon in front of each boy.

Aradia, who had been chosen as timekeeper and referee, asked them each in turn, "Are you ready?" Both boys nodded. "All right, please pick up your spoon." In unison, Dave and Dirk raised the spoon in front of them carefully, for each had a heap of red-brown powder on it. "Let's go over the rules one more time. You have sixty seconds to finish your spoonful. You may not drink anything. If you drop your spoon or attempt to get rid of the cinnamon in any way other than eating it, you forfeit immediately. And no using god tier powers to cheat. Do both of you understand these rules?" Another pair of nods. "Good. On the count of three, your time will start. 1... 2... 3!"

\-------------------

"What did I say, Dirk?"

"Mnnh."

"I told you this was a ridiculous waste of time."

"Mnh."

"How's your mouth?"

"Ungh."

"Come on, open up." Jane tried to pull Dirk's hands away from his mouth, but he rolled over to face the wall he'd curled up next to. Jane sighed. "Dirk, I'm trying to help you here."

"Mrn."

"Fine. Once you've wallowed in your blasted pride long enough, you can come and find me yourself." She stood from where she had been kneeling beside him and walked out of the room, leaving Dirk to his quiet whimpering.


	6. Serein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fill didn't quite fit the prompt, but I rather like the writing on this one.

_Rose's land is quite beautiful,_ she thought to herself.

Years ago, when that explorer had contacted her and told her that her child would help to save humanity, she'd laughed in his face. Never mind the apocalypse nonsense, she had been a single woman fighting for recognition in the scientific field. A husband and children were never part of her plan.

"Nevertheless," he'd said, and over the years he'd kept in contact with her, telling her more and more of what was to come. She didn't believe him until her laboratory was contracted to help create a game, of all things, because he'd warned her years before that it was going to happen. "That's what will start the whole mess, m'dear. It'll be a full ripsnorter of an adventure, and it all starts with the game you'll help design."

That night, when her colleagues were celebrating their big contract, she'd called him to find out everything that would happen.

He explained again that, through the odd interdimensional workings of the game, he'd already seen the children ("There will be four, one of them being your own daughter, of course," and that was still a scary thought) playing the game, though he couldn't tell how their adventure would end, since he'd left before they finished. "I won't be going back, either. Once my girl lands, I'll have to stay here and take care of her."

The next details were all just as unbelievable - children falling from the skies, purple and gold palaces that held their dreaming bodies, an unending war between living chess pieces; the list went on and on. She believed all he said, though, and followed his instructions, even when they led her across the continent to Washington, where she gained a daughter. She stayed through the following April, the day the final meteor would fall. After that, he'd grown incredibly sad.

"It's nothing," he'd waved away her concerns during a phone call. "This was the way things had to go." Eventually she'd learned that that final meteor had killed his sister, the baby on board taken under his nephew's wing.

She took a sip of her martini and gazed at the sky, the bright rain falling over the sea. _The sacrifies he's made, that we all must make... I hope they're worth it._

They'd met once or twice with their children in tow. The young man from Houston, with his music and puppets and total failure at dealing with a young child, and the old man on his last adventure, and the aloof scientist completely devoted to her daughter. She'd never talked with the nephew from Washington, a man forced into caring for a son of his own before he could properly grieve for his mother, but the explorer assured her that he was as prepared as the rest of them for what they must do.

"Upon entering the game, we will meet at a central location," he'd always said, "to pave the way for our children to travel through the game." Now that she was here, at the deck with a boat waiting for her, she considered young Rose's path.

Watching Rose grow from toddler to teenager, seeing her pull away from her mother's overbearing love... it had been hard. She knew when Rose had met the other children, because she'd asked for her own computer (a request easily granted, with the money she'd started saving years ago), a device which soon became her most beloved possession. _And now those friends will be her only companions here._ They were all good children. They would stumble a little along the way, but she had faith they would make it through.

She settled herself into the boat, Rose's pony climbing in beside her. Before casting off, she took one more look back at the house she'd built for herself and Rose, a house she'd hoped would be a haven for them both. It fit here far better than it had back on Earth, its curved white walls blending into the sandy hills surrounding it. Undoubtedly Rose was still there, just beginning the most important journey of her life. The best thing she could do for Rose now was to continue onward, come what may.

She cast off the rope and began rowing across the bright sea, forgetting her martini glass on the pier.


End file.
